The Eighth Point
A Novel of Feudal America
There was no apocalypse, no ecological disaster, no global pandemic, no nuclear winter. In fact, the end was not preceded by mass starvation, panic or pestilence. There was no war, no great depression. The world of our forefathers did not end with a big bang, it ended with a whimper, a quiet demise, perhaps one more disturbing in its simplicity than had there been a battle of Biblical proportions. There was no stopping it because there was nothing that could be fought or defeated, a catalyst was added to a chain of seemingly unrelated events and inertia overcame the status quo.
On December 21, 2012 the mechanical engine of modern life simply exhaled one last long and beleaguered breath and then coasted to a halt.
The electricity did remain on in the larger cities for almost thirty days, rural hydro-electrification much longer. For a time, the average citizenry refused to believe that things were really different. Comfortable in their excess and ease, many still went to work, going about their appointed tasks, following their established routines, all displaying existences that had become mostly Pavlovian in execution… but when the grocery store shelves emptied and the machines stopped, people understood -the changes were real and permanent. The global merry-go-round that so many depended on simply stopped turning.
Military order held for about three months but cities soon emptied and with FEMA emergency food reserves dwindling, there were no more favours to hand out and the governments that were based on nothing but largess and patronage soon collapsed.
And then the lights went out.
Thus began the Second Dark Age.
More to come in the following months…